


the space between

by madfatty



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, alternative telling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 08:18:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12477276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madfatty/pseuds/madfatty
Summary: Yet another sexy party re-imagining. It ends in the same place, just takes a different road to get there.  Originally posted to tumblr on 12/06/17.





	the space between

The pervading ooze of over-excited teenagers, spliff, nicotine and booze hangs in a dense low cloud just below the ceiling of all the downstairs rooms, lingers at the bottom of the stairs. It’s so thick she can taste it. She doesn’t know if it’s made its way upstairs but she can wait to find out. She can’t go back up there. Too afraid of who and what she’ll find. Embarrassed and confused, she couldn’t bring herself to go back to her room with all the others in there, scared they’d take the piss; her and Finn, what a joke. So she’d spent the rest of the night wandering aimlessly from room to room, a ghost at the feast. Everywhere there are groups of people she’s never met before, laughing and talking and totally unaware of her existence. It may be her house, but she feels like the intruder.

Even with her friends, she feels separate and strange. Something’s got hold of her tonight, something worrying and familiar and she can’t get past it. Danny’s in the dining room, chatting up Anna and making friends. Archie’s in the front room with Barney and Lizard. Archie’s been a bit besotted since Barney kissed him and they’ve been circling one another, using Lizard as a buffer. Still, Archie looks hopeful. Chop’s been pretty quiet since Izzy kissed him, he hasn’t really spoken to anyone for a while, and now he’s lying in front of the sideboard wrapped in Christmas lights, staring soulfully into space.

She’s not seen Izzy. Or Chloe. Or Finn. Maybe they’re upstairs. Maybe they’ve gone home. She hopes so.

Her act of teenage rebellion has worn her out. It’s late and there are too many people left in her tiny house. She has an overwhelming urge to stand at the front door and call “Time please,” and have them all shuffle out in a quiet and orderly line. Instead she resentfully gathers up all the glasses she can find and heads to the kitchen.

She needs tea and for everyone else to go home. She just wants her house back. She moves about the kitchen mechanically, filling the kettle and then the sink, dumping the dirty glasses into the steaming hot water. She rummages around in the back of the cupboard, pulling her favourite mug from its hiding place and settling in to wait for the kettle to boil. She catches herself rearranging the fixings - tea, sugar, milk, spoon – in order of size, of application, of expiration date over and over on the worktop. She makes herself look out the window – are they… are those people fucking in her driveway? That’s all she needs, Mrs Dewhurst running over with a bucket of cold water and a policeman by the scruff of the neck with a full written report back to her mother about debauched goings-on in her absence.

She breathes deeply and lowers her hands into the scalding hot water, hissing in satisfaction and relief.

+++++

She hadn’t meant to, but with too many Breezers in her system and all the crying she’d done with Finn and the eternal frustration that was Chop, Izzy had passed out. Spin the bottle had been a complete waste of time, it hadn’t landed on her once and she didn’t want to think about what it meant that Chop was doing the spinning. Even at the end, when he’d finally kissed her and she showed him up, like he’d done to her at Rutlands, she hadn’t felt vindicated. She just felt lonely and confused. The sourness of the whole evening sits like acid in her belly.

She comes awake slowly, to some kind of noise. Her eyes are gummed shut and her tongue is thick with the sugar from the alcopops but there is definitely a noise. Her first thought is that Finn is crying again. He’d moved to the floor from the bed and fallen asleep on the beanbag. Izzy croaks his name. The noise gets louder; it’s wet and breathy, there’s a groan and it’s making her uncomfortable. Izzy finally prises her eyes open and she squints into the gloom.

The curtains are open and the combination of moonlight and streetlight lend themselves to Izzy being able to make him out lying not far from the edge of the bed. Finn’s shadow looks bigger than it should be. She calls again and she notices the shadow’s moving. There’s a girl, snaked around him, pinning him down. She’s got a handful of his hair, holding him still, her jaw working at his throat. His fingers are flexing at her hip, hitching her dress up high enough to reveal a skimpy pair of knickers. Izzy recognises the dress, if not the knickers.

She watches, horrified, as Chloe trails her other hand over the bare skin of his ribs down to boldly squeeze his cock over his jeans. Finn groans again.

“Oi! I’m in the bloody room, if you don’t mind!” Izzy yells and reaches to switch on the bedside lamp. Her voice sounds excessively loud in the dark and all three of them wince against the volume and the sudden brightness of the light. She’s even less happy now she can see them.

Finn’s discarded t shirt is pooled in a ball on the floor. His lips are swollen and Chloe’s mascara has smudged, the zipper of her dress is open all the way down to her navel. Finn tries to pull the edges of the dress closed before doing up his own fly. There’s no hiding the fact he’s hard. 

“Sorry, Iz.” Finn mumbles into his lap. Embarrassed, he sits up quickly, having to push Chloe off of him to do so. Chloe rolls away, pissed off. 

“I should bloody think so.”

He looks guiltily at Chloe and regretfully at Izzy. “Yeah. I’m gonna go…”

“Good idea,” Izzy grumps and watches him as he hastily heads for the door, hands over his crotch, his shirt forgotten. She turns her steely gaze on Chloe when he’s gone.

Chloe lounges back on her elbows, looking defiant and unrepentant. “Ta very much for that, Izzy. What do you think you were you playing at?”

“What was I playing at?”

“Finn’s a big boy Iz; he can do what he wants.”

“What he wants Chlo, or what you want?”

Chloe doesn’t answer. With a shimmy of her hips, she pulls her dress down to its proper length, such as it is, and pulls the zipper back up almost to where it started out the night. With a roll of her eyes she picks up Finn’s discarded t shirt and follows him out the door.

+++

She’s focused on the hypnotic slow-building bubble and hiss of the kettle working its way to the boil, so Rae doesn’t hear him coming.

“Hey,” he says to her back and his voice makes her jump, brings her back into the room where the radio’s on low and the sink is only half full. She recovers quickly though, and without looking up from her reddened hands she offers him a quiet “hey.” 

She wants to look up. She wants to smile widely at him and ask about his night but she can’t. She regrets listening to Danny at all, because, surely there comes a point where the person you’re pushing away gets fed up and moves on?

And it is so hard to maintain. What is so bad about smiling when he smiles? It’s not an admission of anything deeper if she’s nice to him, she doesn’t lose anything by being kind. So she resolves to be both those things, promises herself to be friendlier - until she sees him or hears his voice, there’s a visceral, kneejerk response, overriding her heart and her head and all her good intentions. All her resolutions dissolve and she’s back to spiteful and ungracious. She doesn’t know if it’s still Danny’s voice she can hear or her own fear that’s driving it. No matter how much she wants to let all the bullshit go, she can’t bring herself to just let it be and let it happen. As in all things, she is her own worst enemy.

She keeps her eyes lowered as she feels him walking up behind her. She hears him pick up one of the glasses she must have washed from the draining board. He crowds her, his bare arm cutting across her vision as he reaches for the tap and her reaction is to shy away from him. She closes her eyes and counts under her breath to the sound of the sudden rush of running water filling the glass. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice becoming an echo as he takes a mouthful. It’s a harmless, silly question that shouldn’t bother her but it’s exactly the sort of thing that feeds her anger.

“Retiling the bathroom, obviously,” she spits, violently rolling her eyes.

“You don’t need to do that now. We’re going to clean up in the morning.”

“Oh, I hadn’t realised you were in charge.”

“We all decided last night that we’re staying, we wouldn’t leave you to clear up on your own. You’d have known that if you’d stuck around a little longer.” He mumbles into the rim of the glass as he takes another sip. He doesn’t bother to hide the bitter edge to his voice. So, he’s still pissed at her. She can’t really blame him, she supposes, but fuck if it doesn’t get her back up.

“No-one asked for your help, Finn. I can manage on my own.” She huffs, unable to stop herself.

“Jesus, Rae. I apologised for being a dick. I’m trying really hard, but every little thing still gets turned into an argument. Why is it still like this? Tell me how to fix it.” There’s something sitting along-side the usual annoyed tone he uses when he speaks to her. It’s that same slightly bewildered, slightly hurt voice he’d used in the cupboard earlier. The one that had her doubting the wisdom of heeding Danny’s dating advice, the one that made her momentarily brave enough to hazard a tentative statement of her own.

It’s the one that makes her soften now. What real harm can it do to be gentler with him?

Rae finally turns to face him, trying to fasten a smile to her lips, something warmer than she’s ever shown him before. He’s not his usual immaculately turned-out self. In fact, he’s decidedly rumpled. His overly fussed-over hair is sticking out at the back. He’s red eyed and red nosed and quiet. There’s an angry bruise beginning to purple the tender skin of his throat and a flaking smear of lip gloss rings his mouth and his normally pale skin is flushed; his face, his neck his chest, his… oh.

He’s not wearing a shirt.

He’s been fucking someone.

In her house.

Someone that isn’t her.

Fuck Danny Two Hats and his stupid advice and fuck her for ever listening to him. And double fuck Finn Nelson for fucking someone who isn’t her in her own house and flaunting it under her nose. She’s a little heartbroken and more than a little pissed off. She pushes down the heartbreak and focuses on the anger.

“Vampires, was it? Lose your shirt in the scuffle?” In her house. Which vampire? She can’t let herself think about it now. She can torture herself with those thoughts later. She needs for him to leave.

“What?”

She waves her hand in the general vicinity of his throat. He pokes experimentally at his neck and winces when he grazes over the bruise. He has the good grace to look embarrassed.

“Put a shirt on, would you? You’ll have someone’s eye out.” She barks and he immediately folds his arms self-consciously. It only serves to piss her off more. He’s obviously not shy if he’s going to fuck someone who isn’t her in her house. What on earth has he got to be bashful about?

“You can talk.” he mumbles. Even before he’s finished speaking, his eyes and mouth go wide, gaping, his face is incandescent.

They’re talking about bodies. Rae doesn’t talk about bodies, especially her own. She feels that if she doesn’t draw attention to it, then maybe no one will notice she has one. Rae’s own blush seeps into her hairline. She tries to turn it back around on him.

“I’m not the one who’s half naked.”

“Like that would matter.” He thinks he must be having an aneurysm. Where is this shit coming from? He’s spent most of his life like Silent Sam, couldn’t offer most people a complete sentence if they threatened him at gunpoint and now it seems he’s got lots to say about Rae’s tits. It’s like he can’t help himself. “I… I…” he stammers.

“Seriously, put your nipples away. And wipe your face.” She throws the tea towel that’s draped over her shoulder at him. He snatches it up quickly and ties it round his neck so it hangs like a bib down the front of him, swiping at his face with the bottom of it. He looks ridiculous. He looks like a confused little kid, trying to play at superheroes but not quite sure how the costume’s meant to go. It doesn’t help that there’s a cartoon giraffe eating cake with a monkey on it either.

“Thanks,” He smiles up at her. It’s small and grateful and she marvels at how easily he lets go of the anger. How eager he is for everything to be okay.

“Can I have one of those?” he asks, pointing at the forgotten tea things on the worktop. Just a second ago, she wasn’t anywhere near finished being angry with him, but she’s hit by a sudden wave of fatigue and just like that, she decides to let it go. She does, however, make a very big show of being put upon as she flicks the kettle back on and gets out another mug.

They are a collection of nervous tics in the silence that follows; a therapist’s wet dream. Both of them a compilation of biting cuticles, tapping fingers and tuneless humming. There are furtive looks at each other and much fidgeting with clothing. She’s anchored herself to the sink with a death grip. He’s hovering at a radius of four feet. It makes her feel claustrophobic.

“No point standing around.” She says finally. A little too loud. “You may as well sit.” She gestures to the breakfast bar at the other end of the kitchen.

“Are you going to…?”

“I have to be hostess…” she waves her hand at the kettle.

“Then it’s okay. I’m good here.” He says and leans back against the counter, randomly picks up the teaspoon from the bench. “Good party?” He asks, fiddling with the spoon.

“The house is still standing and no one called the cops so… I guess not.” It’s more a smirk than a smile, but it’s better than nothing.

“Did I hear right, that those three twats turned up?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“From Friday.”

Friday. She’d wanted to forget all about last Friday. Her tantrum and the dragging ache in her belly and the tidal wave of blood in her knickers and those fuckers catching her outside the chippy, but if she erased all that, she’d have to forget about how Finn had stepped in and stopped it and that was something she would never forget. She’d never seen anyone so angry. She watched the internal battle, the deliberate way he calmed himself. Watched the anger drain from his face, his body still tense, his fists still clenched but his voice almost normal when he asked if she was alright.

“Oh. Yeah.” she mutters. “Those guys.”

“Why didn’t you come get me?” he murmurs, and the hurt on his face stops her short. It feels like an accusation. The truth was he hadn’t even been one of her first ten thoughts. She was frozen in the moment and couldn’t think past getting them away from the house.

“There was no need. Danny had it sorted.” She finally stumbles out.

“Danny?”

“Yeah, Danny.”

“Oh. Right.” There’s an awkward moment of silence that follows, where he looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to start. There have been a lot of moments like that lately and he’s never once said anything, so she’s not really expecting it when he does. “Rae, about last Friday…”

There’s a hollowness shading his big dark eyes and the set of his full wide mouth.

“What about it?” – please don’t ask me what they were saying please don’t ask me why I didn’t stand up for myself please please please.

She knew he’d heard them, he must have.

She’d been so careful to keep it all separate, the constant exhausting battle to hide her real life from her new friends, but now he’d seen it first-hand. She was able to pretend that it didn’t exist in front of the gang. If she was loud enough, if she was funny enough, she could distract them from the truth. She could hide the way she looked if she could hide the way other people treated her, but now he’d heard the ugly words used to describe her and now the ugly thoughts would fill his head; the blinders had come off and he would see her the way the rest of the world did and it would only be a matter of time until he let the others know. How could he not see her through their eyes now that the spell had been broken?

But then he’d done something so totally unexpected; he came to her rescue.

“I’m sorry you saw me like that. I don’t want you to think that I’m like that all the time. It’s just, I couldn’t let them… it weren’t right. I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

It had been a long time since he’d hit anyone. He’d come to learn, thanks to his dad and old George down at the gym that fighting was not the way to solve his problems. But when he’d seen her cornered by those bastards, he couldn’t help it. The look on her face had unsettled him. She’d been full of fire in the chippy, fierce and afraid of no one. She’d been something to behold, and then…

He hadn’t understood fully at the time what it meant, he only knew that whatever it was that had done that to her, he wanted to hurt it.

“You didn’t frighten me. Like I said, no one’s ever stood up for me before. I was surprised is all, that it was you.” Rae whispers.

He relaxes a little at that. Some of the tension visibly drops from his shoulders.

“Look,” he starts. His voice is low, and he has her full attention. “What you said in the cupboard, I don’t know what I’ve done… but we are friends, Rae. Well, I’m your friend. I’m always gonna stick up for you.”

It startles her when he pushes off from the counter, straight for her, and she steps aside hurriedly. He drops his empty glass into the cooling washing up water. “Now that you’ve got your head out of your arse. Mostly.” He murmurs over his shoulder as he returns to his spot leaning back against worktop.

Rae blinks rapidly, working her way through what he’s just said, then chokes back a laugh.

“Excuse me?” She reaches forward and flicks at his makeshift backwards cape. “You and your novelty tea towel can fuck off any time you like.” The fact that she’s smiling is a huge relief to him.

“Can’t. I’ve got tea coming.” He says, grinning madly. “Okay, so maybe I had my head up my arse a little bit too. Can we call a truce? Please?”

“Do I have to be nice to you?”

“Well,” he draws the word out. “Some of the time, at least. Birthdays and Christmas. ”

She screws her face up in pained deliberation and he takes great delight in mirroring her expression. “I guess so.” She says dryly.

He looks way too pleased with himself.

“Rae…” Finn starts, his smile beginning to wane.The kettle whistles for a second time.

Before he can finish the thought, Chloe emerges from the hallway. Rae feels every inch of the night hang heavy on her, stale and lank and grimy and Chloe steps into the light like she should be giving lessons in how to be a girl.

The second skin of her yellow dress hugs her gently around her hips, skims the flatness of her belly, and the smooth arc of her arse, its hem hitting her mid-thigh, highlighting the long expanse of well-toned, leg. Her zipper has artfully slipped to reveal the lace edge of her bra and curve of her breasts sitting high and firm above it. Her hair shimmers in the harsh light as does the perfectly applied lip gloss that matches the shade that still clings to the corners of Finn’s mouth.

Oh.

Rae feels all the air leave her body. Chloe arranges herself at Finn’s side, her hip jutting into his. He tenses and slides along the counter away from her, towards Rae who takes a step back herself. She pours all her attention into pouring tea.

“So this is where you got to. You forgot your shirt.” The shirt hangs from Chloe’s fingers between them like a challenge. “Though this is cute,” she smirks, her fingers tapping on his chest, “you should probably put it on,” she stage-whispers, her eyes raking over him appreciatively. “Rae’s not used to half-naked men, are you babe?”

“Thanks,” he mutters, taking the shirt and hastily slipping it over his head. He pulls the tea towel out from under it and twists it between nervous hands.

“We’re talking. Rae and me. Rae’s making tea.” He murmurs, deliberately moving away from the spot Chloe seems keen to pin him to. He remembers the spoon he’s been fidgeting with and offers it to Rae with a broad smile, an act of solidarity between them.

“Tea and a chat. Not exactly E’s and Whizz now, is it? I think it’s safe to say, our Rae’s no party girl.” Chloe turns to offer Rae a half smile. “God, you look done in, babe. Do you feel alright?”

With just a handful of words, Chloe reminds Rae of her place. All tonight’s anxieties are amplified. Deflated, Rae leaves the tea half done and moves towards the door.

“Actually Chlo, I’m not feeling the best. I’m going to turn in. You’re right to finish this, yeah Finn? Night.”

“Night babe,” Chloe purrs.

“Rae.” Finn calls after her.

“Night.” She calls back as she trudges through the toxic teenage haze on her way upstairs.

+++

She thought she wanted to be alone but when she’s sees Izzy lying on the bed, flicking through one of her romance novels, she’s glad for the company. Izzy looks up and smiles that warm Izzy smile and waves the book in front of her.

“This is well hot. Can I borrow it?” and she carefully dog-ears the page she was reading and sits up, putting the book aside. “So how are you gorgeous? How’s your night been?”

Difficult. Anxious. Disappointing. The boy I like likes someone else and I’m tired and sad. She doesn’t say any of it. What purpose would it serve? Instead, she takes a deep breath and slips on the mask for one more performance.

“It’s definitely been a night.” She rolls her eyes dramatically. “You should see the mess downstairs. I’m not looking forward to that.”

“There’s plenty of time tomorrow. We’ll give you a hand, it’s already arranged…” Izzy chirps, waving her hand dismissively.

“So Finn said. That’s really nice of you all.”

“Pfft, nice. Of course we’re going to help. It’s what mates do.” Izzy shifts along the bed to make room for Rae.

“And what about you, Madam? How’d you fare?”

“I could use a cuddle,” Izzy whines, throwing her arms wide. “Know where I can get one?”

“I just might know someone.” Rae grins as she sits down next to Izzy and pulls her into a hug. “This isn’t ‘cause that book’s got you all revved up, is it?” she deadpans, pulling away to look Izzy in the face.

“You wish.”

“Pity,” Rae sighs, and they collapse against each other in a fit of giggles.

“You know what I really need? I need to play with someone’s hair. Lie down here for me Rae.” Izzy orders, patting her outstretched legs.

“Nah, thanks Izzy, I’m good.” It’s not an easy thing for Rae, to be touched. For such a long time it was a cruel thing, so she learned to avoid it. And now to be touched with such care, and so often, by these people who have taken her in is overwhelming. She can only handle it in small doses.

“Don’t ‘nah, Izzy’ me, Rae Earl. I’m a guest, you can’t say no to me.”

“Are you sure that book didn’t give you any ideas?”

“Oh, shut up and lie down.” Izzy bosses, as she takes Rae by the shoulders and guides her down to settle in her lap.

“You know if this gets pervy, Chop’ll want to watch.” Her joke earns her a light smack on the arm and a small huff of laughter that doesn’t go all the way to Izzy’s eyes. Rae can’t help think of Chop in his deep meditative state downstairs.

All Rae’s worries about crushing the tiny redhead vanish when Izzy’s slight fingers card slowly through her hair. Her muscles loosen and the anxiety falls away under Izzy’s soothing touch. It feels good. Rae remembers a better time, when she was little and her mum would hold her in her lap and stroke her hair. There’s a sudden pang in her chest and however pissed off she is with her for lying about her dad, she misses her mum.

“You have such pretty hair, Rae.” Izzy murmurs, wistfully. She seems to be enjoying to process almost as much as Rae, but there’s a far off look in her eyes, a soft melancholy that flattens her usual shine.

You sure you’re okay, Iz?” Rae rolls forward and props herself up on her elbows so she can look Izzy in the eye. 

“Hmmm? Yeah. Just thinking about stuff.” She curls her palm around Rae’s shoulder.

“Did Finn tell you? His Nan died last night.”

“What? No. He never said a word.”

“She’d been sick for a while. Finn and Mr Nelson where convinced she’d get better, she had before, so they just thought… but she took a turn for the worse tonight and like that, she was gone.” Izzy’s voice is thick with unshed tears. “It was very fast in the end but he feels bad he wasn’t there.”

“It was awful. I wanted to take him home but his dad was stuck at the hospital and Finn didn’t want to be by himself. I hope you don’t mind, we grabbed some beers and came up here to hide out. He was so sad. We cried for a bit and then we both got a little drunk and we cried some more, then I put him to bed and we fell asleep.”

“Poor Finn.” Rae says, her own eyes wet.

He’s been going through all that, probably for as long as she’s known him and she’d been too caught up in her own stupid feelings to notice.

“When I woke up, Chloe was all over him.” She says it quietly, but the sadness in her tone is replaced with steel.

“Izzy!”

“It’s true, Rae.”

“That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t be telling me this. It’s none of my business.” If she were a better person her reasons for not wanting to know what happened would be because it was none of her business but that’s not the reason and it’s one more thing she can torture herself with later.

“But it does. He’s her friend and she… it’s not right.”

“If it’s what they want…” It’s not how she really feels though. She feels sick. Yet again she loses out to Chloe and it just isn’t fair. Is there nothing that Rae wants that Chloe can’t have?

“That’s the thing, Rae. It’s not. Everyone knows that Finn…” Izzy stops abruptly, as if she’s said too much.

“Everyone knows that Finn what? I know fuck-all about Finn, other than he’d rather I wasn’t around.”

She knows that’s bullshit even before she’s finished saying it. It might have been true at one point in the very beginning, but not now. He keeps talking about them being friends and he must mean it because he keeps saying it. But, it was hard enough when she’d decided she’d like more than that, and now she knows that he’s been with Chloe, that he wants Chloe, she can’t stop the negative thoughts. If he and Chloe are going to be together then it might be easier if they weren’t friends. Rae doesn’t think she has that much pretend left in her.

“Don’t be thick, Rae. It really doesn’t suit you.” There’s a tick of annoyance in Izzy’s tone that she quickly reins in. She takes a breath. “Look, he’s sad and his heart hurts and he’s drunk and she took advantage. I’m just looking after him, like he would me.” She pulls Rae back down into her lap and continues to brush her fingers through her hair.

“He’s so good Rae. He’s kind and he’s sweet and he cares. I know you two got off on the wrong foot but he’s lovely Rae, if you’ll just give him the chance.”

“The two of you are close, I get that Iz, but it can’t be the same thing for him and me.” Rae protests gently.

“I admit he’s said some daft boy things, I’ve wanted to clip him ‘round the earhole a couple of times myself, but I think it’s just because you rattle him. He always talks about you. How funny you are, how clever. He’s always repeating stuff you say, and I’m like “Yeah Finn, I know, I was there.” Izzy laughs softly.

She’s still smiling when she shares, “Archie and I have got this bet going. Every time Finn starts a sentence with “Rae says,” or “Rae thinks,” Archie owes me 10p. I haven’t paid for a drink in the Swan for weeks now!”

Dear, sweet, misguided, got-the-wrong-end-of-the-stick Izzy, looking at life through her rose-tinted granny glasses and seeing nothing but sunshine and rainbows and feelings where there are none. Rae’s about to tell Izzy that she’s lovely but obviously delusional when there’s a tapping at the door. Finn’s head pokes sheepishly around the edge of it.

“Hiya,” he mumbles.

“Look Rae. Look who it is. It’s the lovely Finn. Hello lovely Finn, come sit with us.” Izzy beams, her fingers stilling in Rae’s hair. Rae sits up, reluctant to lose contact with Izzy’s comforting touch.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Never,” Izzy pats the bed next to her. “The more, the merrier,” He hesitates at the door, warily eyeing Rae. “Come on, come here. We’ve saved you a spot.”

“Are you sure? Are you feeling better, Rae?” Rae gives him a shy, short nod and a weak smile. It’s all the encouragement he needs and he crosses the room, to ease into Izzy’s side. They bob like boats on the shoreline, trying to get comfortable. Finn fusses with the neckline of his t shirt, tugging at it self-consciously in an attempt to hide the bruise on his neck. Izzy gently pulls his hand away, squeezes his fingers reassuringly.

“I’m sorry about before Iz, I didn’t…” he whispers, the puff of his breath a tickle in her ear.

She turns her face towards him with a finger to her lips, her eyes soft and forgiving. “Shh, quiet now. We’re having a moment.”

The three of them sit against the wall, a tryptic of teenage angst; interlocking pieces of the same beast. Finn’s head on Izzy’s shoulder, hers resting on top of his. Izzy’s arm slung possessively around Rae, Rae coiled tight into Izzy’s side.

“This is so lovely. Cuddling with two of my favourite people in the whole world.”

“Ha! Everyone’s your favourite.” Finn scoffs quietly.

“I don’t have that many! But the ranking changes with my mood, so watch it you or you’ll drop right out of the top five.”

“Who are you kidding? I’ll always be your number one.” Finn tickles her and Izzy giggles and there’s a sort of contained rolling about, save for the flailing arms, and Rae wriggles out of harm’s way. It continues until Izzy squeals a fervent ‘stop’ and he does. Its clear Izzy has him wrapped around her little finger and he’s more than happy to be there. They collapse into each other, breathless. It’s nice to watch him be light and playful with Izzy. Rae’s never seen that side of him before. The sweetness. She doesn’t hesitate to re-join them when Izzy pulls her back into their little pile without a word.

“So much for my moment,” Izzy groans. “Okay you two, let me up,” unravelling herself from their tangle of limbs, she scoots to the edge of the bed. “I better go check that awful boy hasn’t set fire to anything downstairs.”

“I should probably come with you…” Rae sighs.

“No. Stay. I can handle Chop. Besides, I need to talk to Chloe.” She stands, but before she can get too far, Finn moves forward, catching her hand and pulling her back.

“Fairy…” the word gets stuck in his throat and he hugs her tightly.

”Hey, it’s what we do, yeah?” Izzy’s arms fall easily around his shoulders. They nestle together for a moment, everyone else forgotten. Izzy has to peel him off her before she can leave the room. “Now, play nice.” She commands as she shuts the door behind her and just like that, they’re alone.

“Little Miss Fix-it.” Rae grins, nodding at the closed bedroom door.

“Bossy little thing, you mean.” Finn counters. “I do love her a lot, though.”

“And why wouldn’t you? She’s fucking amazing.”

“She really is.” He affirms softly. “She takes care of me.”

“She said the same about you.”

“Well, we’re friends. It’s what you do.” He looks up from his hands and shrugs, giving her a rueful smile. It seems to Rae that what Finn and Izzy share goes beyond any friendship Rae’s experienced. The twist of longing is sharp and quick. 

“She said that too.”

“That’s because she steals all my best lines.” This smile is looser, more relaxed.

“Can I ask you something? Does she ever ask to play with your hair?”

“Why? What did she tell you?” He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes narrowed.

“Nothing. It’s just… she was pretty insistent. I wouldn’t want to cross her.” She looks at him conspiratorially. Smiling at him is getting easier.

“I’ve found life is much simpler if I pick my battles. Though she be but little, she is fierce.” Rae’s jaw drops and he can’t help but chuckle. “A little less shock please, if you don’t mind, Mae. You’re not the only one who’s ever cracked a book, you know.”

“Wow. Such hidden depths. I’m well impressed.” And there it is, a proper Rae-smile. He’d seen them before, but he’s never had one directed at him until now. Sometimes, when she’d let go and forgotten she didn’t like him so much, she’d let that wide lipped grin fall on him too, just for a moment, before she remembered who he was and shut it off. Now he’s got one all of his own.

“Relax brainbox, your crown is safe. I got miles to go before I catch up to you.” They laugh quietly together and the next silence is a little easier too.

She turns to look at him, a thought suddenly forming. “Is that why you call her fairy?”

“It started out as Titania, ’cause of the red hair and because she’s so tiny, but I had to stop when Chop kept shortening it to ‘Tits’” Rae sputters and her eyes go wide. “I used to get a slap every time he said it. ME, not him. ‘That’s your fault, Finn Nelson.’” He mimics Izzy’s cranky voice. “Wasn’t fair.” The more Rae laughs the more animated Finn gets. “Fucking Chop. He’s got no clue about women.”

“He really hasn’t, has he? Poor Izzy.” They share a nod and a knowing look. Finn’s hand goes to his mouth unconsciously, and worries at his thumb. In the quiet that follows, his thoughts turn back to the night. All he’d really wanted was to forget about what was happening with his Nan and to make things up with Rae, but she’d been her normal prickly self and he’d had to get away. He regrets what happened with Chloe; too eager to feel something other than hurt, he’d reached out for something he didn’t want. There’s a sudden wave of guilt at his selfishness, he’s convinced because of it, he’s lost his grandmother. “Finn, Izzy told me about your Nan. I’m so sorry.” Rae’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. 

“Thanks.” he says softly.

“Why didn’t you say something downstairs?”

“I was going to. It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. I’m so, so sorry Finn.” Instinctively, she reaches across the gap between them, stopping short of touching him. She doesn’t know if he’d want that. She’d given him such a hard time; when she thinks about her behaviour she’s mortified by how self-absorbed she really is. Why would anyone want her as a friend?

“Izzy was here.” He shrugs.

“She said you didn’t want to go home.” Rae shifts around to face him and their knees bump momentarily while she adjusts herself on the bed. Finn’s hand drops to rest on his knee, the skin around his thumbnail, red and bleeding. 

“Dad was at the hospital with my Uncle Tony. Paperwork, arrangements… something. I should be with him I know, but I just can’t.” He looks up at her then, pale and lost, searching her face for a sign that he’s safe. The next words pour out of him fast and low “I… I don’t want to, I’m not ready, but I don’t want to be on my own. That’s horrible, isn’t it? I’m a horrible, selfish fuck.”

“Oh Finn, no. You’re not horrible and it’s not selfish.” She can’t help but cover his hand with her own now as she tries to reassure him. “You need to look after yourself so you can look after your dad. He wouldn’t want you to be alone. You’re welcome to stay here if you want.”

“I’d like that, Rae. Thanks.”

++++

She’s not asleep; her head is too all over the place. Her mum has been pretending to be her dad for years, she’s got a house full of strangers at a completely non-sanctioned sexy-party and Danny’d shown up, AWOL from the hospital, with tall tales of unbridled sexual abandon and pissing out her bathroom window. Now she’s lying in bed with the most beautiful boy she’s ever seen. As weird nights go, this will take some beating, and she’s been sectioned for almost killing herself. Accidentally.

He hadn’t wanted Rae to leave when she’d insisted that he get some sleep. Made her promise to stay right where she was, while he went and collected his sleeping bag from downstairs and hers from the airing cupboard and set them up on Rae’s bed. She said she’d sleep on the beanbag but he was adamant she didn’t.

She’d worried that they wouldn’t fit and he’d said nonsense, as he pressed himself further against the wall and waved his hand over the empty space beside him, look, plenty of room and he smiled up at her, and she couldn’t help it, she smiled back. Turned out there was plenty of room.

He’d talked all about his Nan and his dad, but balked at giving away too much information about his mum. Just that she’d left when he was small and he didn’t see her anymore. Rae didn’t push.

She told him about her mum and her illegal immigrant boyfriend on the run in Tunisia and the crazy topless neighbour lady across the road, but mostly she just let him talk. Then she let him cry and when he’d finished crying, she let him hold her hand. Now he’s finally asleep, curled up on his side, snuffling gently into her hair, his lips just an inch from her skin. She could, if she wanted to, just lean over, just a smidge, and he’d be kissing her, but she doesn’t. If he’s ever going to kiss her, she wants it to be because he wants to.

She’s not asleep, but she pretends to be when Chloe sticks her head around the door and watches them for a long time.


End file.
